


Life in the Future

by shinyopals



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Avengers Tower, Awesome Sam Wilson, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Domestic Avengers, Jane Foster Loves Science, M/M, Minor Jane Foster/Thor, POV Steve Rogers, Pansexual Thor, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Thor Is Not Stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-14 01:05:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12996483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinyopals/pseuds/shinyopals
Summary: ‘How much have you strategised this?’ asks Sam, shaking his head.Steve grins. ‘I was created to be the perfect soldier,’ he says. ‘Mission time.’Steve’s finally moving into Avengers Tower, but before he can get too settled there’s something he has to tell the others.





	Life in the Future

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for [Niobium](http://archiveofourown.org/users/niobium) once more for her beta services!

‘You remember, Sam… he’s my boyfriend,’ Steve says. 

His reflection, not unsurprisingly, mouths the sentence back at him and then twitches uncomfortably at how it lies on his tongue. 

He tries again. ‘The thing is, I’m… bisexual. And I’m dating Sam.’ He and his reflection scowl at each other.

‘I’m glad you finally figured it out.’ Sam appears at the bathroom door, all easy smiles, and Steve transfers his glare to the boyfriend in question, albeit in a softened form.

‘This isn’t easy,’ he says. ‘I’ve never- I’ve never told anybody.’ Because he hasn’t. Not his mother, not his friends, not Peggy, not the Howling Commandos - some of whom would probably even have forgiven him.

‘Not even…?’ No need to ask who Sam means.

‘Bucky figured it out before I did,’ says Steve. ‘He let me know it was OK in a hundred little ways, but he always made sure I knew not to tell a soul. He lived half his life in panic I’d look at the wrong guy and get killed over it.’ He manages a wry smile. ‘I probably would have done eventually. But then, the war… I couldn’t risk a discharge.’

‘That sounds familiar,’ says Sam with half a smile, coming to stand beside Steve. Steve observes both their reflections in the shiny new bathroom mirror, next to each other, shoulders touching, and lets out half a breath. They’ll be all right. He takes Sam’s hand and weaves their fingers together.

‘Did Riley…?’ he begins but, like Sam, finishing the question seems hard.

‘Oh, I told,’ says Sam. ‘Him and a couple of others. It was a risk, but…’ He shrugs. ‘When every day might be your last...’

‘Yeah,’ agrees Steve.

‘You know we don’t have to tell them yet, if you don’t want,’ says Sam.

‘I did not wake up in the future to ignore the good stuff,’ says Steve.

‘Damn right you didn’t,’ agrees Sam, with laughing eyes. 

‘No, but, people have fought and died, for this-’ He holds up their enjoined hands. ‘For us being able to talk about it. For us to be free. I wasn’t there. I couldn’t help them. But that doesn’t mean I now get to run and hide, just because it might be easier.’

‘Man, everything you say sounds like the start of an epic speech,’ says Sam, grinning. ‘It’s enough to give a guy a complex.’

~*~

Stark Tower now has an “A” for Avengers on the side, but it’s still just as ugly as ever. Steve’s new apartment is also kinda ugly, with shiny, bright furniture supplied that’s more to Stark’s taste than his. It’s temporary, says Stark, until he gets himself settled and buys his own stuff. That’s a relief. So far he’s one of Steve’s more understanding landlords. Steve looks at the small number of cardboard boxes that are dotted around on top of his perfect, designer furniture, waiting to be opened and organised. He suddenly strangely misses his place in DC. He’d gotten used to it, until it got ripped apart by bullets and stained by Fury’s blood. Now he’s back in a New York that’s not his, because Stark really, badly wants the Avengers to be a thing.

Truthfully, he’s there because he, well, doesn’t disagree entirely. Hydra are everywhere, and there are other threats and he can’t stop them alone. Nor can he search for Bucky if he’s broke paying regular rent and working a regular job. A… _team_ isn’t a terrible idea. He’s not sure how he feels about being an “Avenger”; not yet sure what it means to be bankrolled by Tony Stark instead of being SHIELD’s puppet. He’s giving it a go. The view out of his windows is better, for one, even if it’s a constant reminder of how much the city has changed in what to him was no time at all. 

One thing’s for sure, though: he wants to be able to be himself. Living in the future has to have some benefits. He’s spent too much of his life hiding a part of himself from friends and family. Stark said to treat this place like his own home - to decorate how he wants and be as private (or not) as he wants, and bring as many guests as he wants. Right now, ‘guests’ is Sam.

He never quite knows who’s going to be in the Tower. He’s visited a bunch, of course, before committing to moving in. He’s run missions with the Avengers and come for Stark’s parties and events and sometimes just to talk to his, well, friends. Stark is there more often than not, with or without Pepper Potts or Colonel Rhodes (depending on their duties). Banner is often there, but tends to disappear for long periods of time to go somewhere more peaceful than the city. Natasha is also in and out, claiming to be ‘lying low’ now that she’s ‘unemployed’, but Steve suspects she’s still running missions for Fury. She definitely has a lot of up-to-date intel about Hydra. Barton and Thor are the most infrequent visitors. Nobody knows where Barton spends his time - except maybe Natasha - but he’ll show up for the odd weekend to eat a lot of food, train with Natasha, and play video games on screens that are as big as a bed. And the biggest surprise has been Thor: since the business in London he’s been on Earth, and he flies in for missions and every so often for a party, like Barton and like Steve. But he’s somehow obtained a completely normal human girlfriend who he dotes on, and who he follows to a different remote corner of the planet every month.

Since it’s Steve’s moving in day, he’s not surprised when Jarvis informs him it’s a full house and Stark’s planning a welcome dinner-and-drinks later.

‘Then?’ suggests Sam.

‘All of them at once?’ says Steve ludicrously.

‘Get it done quickly,’ points out Sam.

‘I’m going for divide and conquer,’ says Steve.

‘How much have you strategised this?’ asks Sam, shaking his head.

Steve grins. ‘I was created to be the perfect soldier,’ he says. ‘Mission time.’

Sam gives him a _look_.

~*~

Natasha is with Barton, which isn’t surprising. They’re sharing a bowl of nachos and playing a video game together that involves some cartoonish characters in racing cars. Steve cannot even begin to guess who’s winning the race, but by now he knows better than to interrupt and he perches awkwardly on the edge of the spare couch. Sam sits beside him in silence. 

Steve’s heart is in his throat as he waits. Natasha is the one he’s most confident of: they’ve done the most missions together of everyone and Steve’s pretty sure she’s guessed he’s into guys as well as girls. She’s kinda off her game if she hasn’t, he reasons. That doesn’t mean he feels entirely… safe. He’s known he’s different for half his life, and he’s known not to tell a soul for just as long.

Barton wins at the last minute by some sort of blue device thing that incapacitates Natasha’s racer, and he jumps from his chair, hooting in victory.

‘Oh, so now you’re only down two,’ says Nat drily. ‘Well done.’

‘Whatever, Romanoff,’ says Barton. ‘Or did you want to go back to _Wii Bowling_? Five-zero to me, thank you very much!’

She glares at him before turning to Steve and Sam. ‘Welcome,’ she says. ‘Moving in day, huh?’

‘Did you want in?’ asks Barton, reaching for a handful of nachos. ‘There’s two extra controllers in the basket by the TV.’

‘Uh, maybe later,’ says Steve. He’s kinda curious - and he does have pretty good reflexes so he thinks he’d do OK - but he probably shouldn’t put off his mission when it’d be all too easy to do exactly that. ‘There’s, uh, there’s something I - we - wanted to tell you guys.’

Natasha considers them both. ‘I assume that means you’ve both finally moved on from just flirting?’ she says, quirking an eyebrow. ‘Well done. I thought it might take longer.’

‘How do you _do that_?’ demands Sam, but he’s laughing. Steve feels a tiny part of himself relax despite his sudden temptation to roll his eyes. 

‘It’s my job,’ she says.

‘Huh, so you two?’ says Clint. ‘I always assumed one of the Howling Commandos to be honest.’

‘ _Really_?’ demands Steve. 

Barton shrugs. ‘Hey man, I’ve seen pictures of Gabe Jones. And it’s also part of my job. That and sticking pointy things in people at speed.’

‘It’s not… in a file somewhere, is it?’

‘No,’ says Natasha. Steve glances sharply at her. He’s not sure he believes her. ‘And I’m not specifically going to tell Fury. If he asks I won’t lie, but I don’t think you dating Sam as opposed to just making eyes at him needs to go in the file.’

‘Good,’ says Steve firmly. This, he thinks, is exactly why he likes soldiers better than spies. ‘I’m pretty sure he was making eyes back,’ he adds.

‘Sometimes,’ says Sam, grinning.

‘Urgh, another couple in this tower is what we didn’t need,’ mutters Barton. ‘Stark and Thor are bad enough. I’m going back to _Mario Kart_.’ He picks up the controller and starts thumbing through the options on the game.

All the same, Steve lets out a breath. Sam reaches over to squeeze his hand.

‘Thanks, guys, I wasn’t- I haven’t-’ He breaks off and looks to Sam.

‘Seventy years is long enough for some things to change,’ says Natasha, reading his thoughts from his nerves. And she’s right, of course. 

‘I wouldn’t worry,’ adds Barton. ‘The others’ll be cool. Except maybe Tony. He’s never been cool in his life. But he’ll probably only be an asshole unintentionally. That's his style.’

~*~

It’s Stark they look for next, but on the way they bump into Maria Hill. Feeling a little emboldened, Steve manages a fairly coherent, “And you know Sam - my boyfriend”. Hill does know Sam and hardly needs to be reintroduced but it's about as non-awkward as Steve can manage. She also receives the news with minimal surprise, making Steve even more certain that there _is_ a SHIELD file somewhere. Or at least, that spies are annoying.

Hill directs them to the lab, though, and there they find Stark, Banner and Colonel Rhodes. The latter two are behind a protective screen drinking coffee while Stark enthusiastically welds something. Sparks fly alarmingly.

‘... at this time of year,’ says Banner as they enter.

‘Yeah? I do have plenty of leave to use,’ says Rhodes thoughtfully. ‘I think I might be doing a bit more mountaineering than you have, though.’

‘Probably true,’ says Bruce. ‘I like to find a quiet camp with nobody else for miles and just… not leave.’ He looks up to see Steve and Sam and waves them over. ‘If you’re in here you should probably be behind the screen.’

‘He isn’t,’ says Sam, gesturing in Stark’s direction.

Stark has now dived inside some large metal component, which is making alarming clanking noises. Steve is still getting to know Tony Stark, but he’s reminded rather forcibly of Howard and urges Sam behind the screen with alacrity.

‘You remember Sam?’ he says to Bruce, who nods, although they’ve only met the once. ‘And Sam, this is Colonel James Rhodes of the Air Force,’ he says. Sam has given him a very quick look of alarm and Steve thinks he can guess why. Rank is still rank, especially after all this time of being programmed not to tell. Steve’s fingers itch a little with the temptation to salute but he resists. He’s not in the army any more. Rhodes is a friend of a friend. ‘Sir, this is Sam Wilson, my… boyfriend.’ The “sir” comes out without thinking. _So much for friend of a friend,_ he thinks with wry amusement. 

Both Banner and Rhodes’ eyes widen slightly, but they recover quickly. ‘No need to stand on ceremony,’ says Rhodes, extending a hand to shake Sam’s. ‘You’re both out, aren’t you? Just Rhodes is fine. Nobody calls me James.’ He smiles at Sam and it's warm, and Steve can almost feel Sam relax. ‘The Falcon project, right? How are the wings? I always wanted a go.’

Sam opens his mouth but Stark suddenly appears right by the screen wielding a blowtorch and wearing a welding mask.

‘Wait, _what_ did you say?’ he demands. Then he seems to realise how ridiculous he looks and shuts off the blowtorch and pushes up the mask. ‘Sorry. Now repeat.’

Steve steels himself. ‘Sam and I are dating,’ he says, watching Stark. He thinks Barton’s assessment was correct, but he can’t help but be ready for the worst anyway.

Stark blinks. ‘I thought you and Aunt Peg were… friendly.’ 

Somehow the mention of Peggy is less like a stab to the chest when preceded by _Aunt_. It sounds strange and unlikely and just one level distant from the Peggy Carter he knew and loved.

‘Aunt… Peg?’ says Banner.

‘Peggy Carter,’ says Steve stiffly. ‘She and I… were sweethearts. During the war.’ He looks at Stark. ‘It’s possible to like both men and women, you know.’

‘I know that,’ says Stark, rolling his eyes, as though he weren’t the one asking the stupid questions. ‘It’s just a different from the _Captain America_ of the comics. New woman every month, you know, each more-’ He gestures a crude assessment of femininity a bit too expressively, ‘-than the last.’

Sam cracks up at the side and Steve glares. He hates those comics. Unfortunately, Howard Stark collected them so his son had a childhood too filled with the fictional Captain America’s exploits.

‘Honestly, the main thing I got from all this is that in another universe, Tony might have called you _Uncle Steve_ ,’ says Banner, which has both Steve and Stark united in horror while Sam and Rhodes laugh their asses off.

~*~

‘That’s all gone pretty well,’ says Sam. ‘Even Tony Stark, who I still can't believe I know. Even Air Force Colonel Rhodes, who I did _not_ expect to be coming out to. Do you know he was behind Operation Eagle Wing?’ Sam is gleeful, and Steve can't help but smile. 

‘Fanboy,’ he says. 

‘Jealous?’ teases Sam, and Steve snorts and grabs his hand. 

‘In your dreams,’ he says. ‘Rhodes is a great guy. I'm sure if you ask him nicely he'll give you an autograph.’ He smiles slyly at Sam, who elbows him, and he snickers. 

‘Ass,’ says Sam. ‘Still. It's going… good. It's hard to shake off the programming though.’

‘Yeah,’ agrees Steve. ‘I guess I did… hope, and even expect it’d be fine. We’re just… so well trained for so long not to say anything.’

‘Perfect soldiers,’ agrees Sam, leaning against him. ‘If I told the wrong person, I lost my job. If you told the wrong person, you ended up in jail. And here we are now.’ 

Sam leans to give him a quick kiss, right there in the corridor like it’s totally nothing, and Steve smiles because maybe it really can be that simple, at least in the Tower. The outside world, he knows, is still more complicated. After all this is done, they need to decide just how public they want to be. That they even could consider it is both incredible and terrifying. 

First though, there’s Thor.

‘Just one to go,’ says Sam, seeming to sense Steve’s thoughts have flipped tracks.

‘Yeah but…’ Steve sucks in a breath. ‘I don’t know how this’ll go.’

Sam tilts his head. ‘Really? I mean, he’s an alien, right? That means he might not have the same hang ups.’

‘I hope not,’ says Steve. ‘But the other week he admitted he finds male doctors surprising because they’re all women on Asgard. I think they’ve got some pretty strict rules there. Nineteen-forties strict. I never saw a woman as a doctor, and he never saw a man.’

‘Huh,’ says Sam. He considers this. ‘How much actual-Viking is he?’

‘Still figuring it out,’ says Steve. ‘And it’s… well, it matters what he thinks. To me.’ 

It’s hard to explain, really, that Thor matters so much, but he does. He’s a man who’s both too old for this shit and too young for his years, and in a place - in a _time_ \- that doesn’t make sense to him. He’s fought wars and seen friends die on the battlefield. He _gets it_ when all of the others don’t. He and Steve might spend a lot of time explaining things to each other because neither of them understands their only common frame of reference, but there’s still more that doesn’t need to be explained. Steve’s afraid of losing that, afraid of a gulf in understanding that can’t be patched up. He hopes he’s just not doing justice to Thor, but they haven’t exactly got into the detail of the gender and sexuality politics of a race of alien pseudo-vikings yet and he can't help but fear the worst when Thor has some honestly _weird_ ideas about a lot of things.

‘You don't have to justify wanting your alien friend to not be a dick,’ says Sam, and Steve supposes that's true. 

Thor answers the door to his own apartment in the tower wearing an apron. The scent of warm, foreign-smelling spices wafts through the door and Steve feels almost instantly elsewhere.

‘Hello, Steve!’ he says smiling broadly. ‘It is good to see you. And your friend…?’

‘Sam Wilson,’ says Sam. Thor shakes his hand with gusto and gestures for them to enter. 

‘Welcome Sam, Son of Wil,’ he says. Steve suppresses a smile. He’s pretty sure by now Thor knows that they don’t use patronymic naming and just likes how it sounds. ‘Come. We are in the kitchen! Please join us!’

Steve’s been in Thor’s apartment before, of course, but he still can’t help but marvel at how hilariously different it is from the rest of the Tower. Evidently Thor took Tony’s suggestion to make himself at home to its extreme. Dark woods, bronze and gold metals, stone flagons covered with thick fur carpets, and ancient weaponry hanging on the walls abound. There are reminders of a world outside the Viking, though: twenty-first century computers and lab equipment and scattered papers, a TV with a DVD case for _Die Hard_ resting beside it, and a strange, orange-glowing hologram lazily floating in the corner displaying a gently rotating planetary system.

In the kitchen, the smell of foreign spices intensifies in the hot, dry air. There’s a huge countertop and range and an _open fire_. Steve doesn’t even want to begin to know how Thor has negotiated that with Stark. There’s a chimney that smoke appears to be rising into, but, well, he can’t guess where it goes.

Jane Foster - the alarmingly human girlfriend - is there. She’s ensconced in a pile of cushions on a couch in the corner with a laptop computer. Steve’s only met her once before, and his first impressions of “cute but intense” aren’t abated when she interrupts her own greeting with ‘wait, Thor, I’ve just remembered-’ then picks up a notebook and asks Thor to repeat the third through ninth verses of some poem.

Thor beams lovingly at her and gestures for Steve and Sam to make themselves comfortable as he scoops them both cups of herbal tea from a cauldron-like pot bubbling gently at the edge of the fire. ‘Forgive me for a moment,’ he says, and begins to recite from memory. 

Steve seats himself next to Sam on the large wooden bench that takes up most of the floorspace in the kitchen, and sips his tea. It’s grassy, but also slightly smokey and cinnamony and otherwise filled with strange flavours he doesn’t recognise. This is pretty much peak Thor, so he doesn’t know what else he could have expected. Sam, who’s never met either Thor or Jane before, is looking thoroughly bewildered at suddenly finding himself listening to an unexpected poetry recital in a Viking alehouse hidden right in the middle of Tony Stark’s shining beacon of technology.

 _What the hell?_ he mouths at Steve, who shrugs and drinks more tea. Sam copies him, a little dubiously at first, but he seems to accept that the alien drink is fine and keeps going. 

The poem - or at least, the bit Thor is quoting - turns out to be about the formation of the Nine Realms, which Steve vaguely remember is a bunch of planets that are connected by some weird magical space bridge. Thor’s voice has taken on a lyrical quality as he speaks: he clearly knows the piece well and has practice in reciting to an audience. Jane Foster is taking notes. Sam looks between her and Thor and then catches Steve’s eye again and Steve shrugs again. He’s learned to just let Thor get on with his thing, especially where requests from Jane are concerned, because otherwise she never stops asking. (Thor once came back from a mission to eighty-four unread texts about _math_ and spent the next hour carefully responding to all of them in between beers.)

At last Thor finishes. Jane keeps scribbling.

‘It is good to see you again, Steve, and to meet you, Sam, of whom I have heard many stories of your bravery.’ Thor proclaims this cheerfully and Steve tries not to blush. He probably has mentioned Sam a few times. Perhaps there isn’t actually a SHIELD file.

‘Er, ditto,’ says Sam. ‘Thanks for the tea.’ 

‘You are most welcome,’ says Thor. ‘I hope you will make yourself comfortable in my home.’ He turns back to Steve. ‘Stark tells me you are finally joining us in the Tower and tonight there will be much celebration.’

‘“Finally”? You can talk!’ says Steve. ‘You’re always off in some desert somewhere.’

Thor shrugs. ‘We have been here more frequently of late,’ he says. ‘Jane has collected much data and now writes a book, so there is less need to travel. And I find it easier to be near the Avengers since your fight with Hydra, so here we are.’

‘Aren’t you coming to the party?’ asks Sam tentatively, gesturing to the meat. Thor is chopping spindly purple roots now with a neatness and efficiency that's unexpected.

‘We are,’ says Thor. ‘This is for tomorrow. It requires about thirty of your hours to cook for the toxins in the cells to break down to a level where they only produce a mild euphoria rather than severe hallucinations.’

‘Of course it does,’ says Steve slowly. He looks at Jane, slightly alarmed.

‘Obviously I’m going to try it,’ says Jane, answering the question in his eyes. ‘Besides, Thor made sure it was slaughtered as closely according to shechitah as possible so it’d be rude not to.’ She gives Thor a soppy smile, which he returns. ‘They have a lot of complicated options on Asgard apparently.’

‘Right,’ says Steve. He’s not sure what to do with this information. He scratches his ear and glances at Sam, who is shaking his head slightly. It'd be easy to keep talking about the alien food because he has, well, a _lot_ of questions, but he doesn't want to put off for too long. He wants to finish ripping off the bandaid. ‘Thor, there was… something I wanted to tell you. Something we wanted to tell you.’

‘Oh?’ Thor lets off chopping and focusses instantly. It’s immediately disconcerting and the words die in Steve’s throat.

‘Should I go?’ says Jane before Steve can get anything out.

‘No need,’ says Steve. ‘Thank you,’ he adds. He doesn’t really know Jane but she’ll find out pretty soon anyway, and someone else who understands twenty-first century America might be helpful. On the basis that she’s dating an alien, she’s probably relatively tolerant. 

‘All right,’ says Jane. She picks up her notebook again and frowns at it with a lot of purpose. It might be her covering for her awkwardness or for his own, or, considering Jane, she might genuinely be already forgetting he’s there.

Thor gestures for Steve to continue and he sucks in a breath.

‘Sam and I, are, well… seeing each other,’ he says.

Thor frowns momentarily and Jane looks up again in time to see it. ‘He means dating,’ she says.

‘Ah,’ says Thor. ‘Sometimes I understand only a very literal translation of your slang phrases,’ he explains. ‘My language magic skills are… well enough, but not exceptional.’

‘Right,’ says Steve faintly.

‘You are to be congratulated,’ adds Thor, resuming chopping. ‘It is easier to fight for the realms with a loved one at your side.’ He shoots a further sappy look at Jane.

Steve glances at Sam, who just shrugs uncertainty at him. They both look at Jane. It’s a bit anticlimactic all things considered. Not that he wanted anything different, of course.

Jane shrugs too. ‘Alien,’ she says by way of explanation.

Thor looks up from his cooking and frowns. ‘What did I do?’ he asks, almost wounded.

Steve lets out a laugh. ‘Sorry, no, nothing wrong,’ he says. ‘I just… I didn’t know how you’d react so I was trying to prepare for the worst, just in case.’

‘Because you are… dating?’ says Thor slowly.

‘They're both men,’ says Jane. She considers Steve. ‘Wow, the forties must have sucked for you.’

‘At times,’ says Steve. He doesn’t want to get into some complicated story about his romantic life, which has thus far been mired with a mixture of awkwardness and tragedy.

‘I feel I still do not understand,’ says Thor.

‘Sleeping with someone of the same gender was illegal until, um-’ Jane pulls out her phone and types, ‘ _shit_ , 2003, are you kidding me? Nationwide, I mean. New York was 1980. That’s only a year before I was born.’ She offers her phone to Thor, who accepts it and begins to skim through the page. ‘There’s a lot of stuff. It’s still illegal in some places. Like, America is actually one of the better places and even here people still get disowned or worse. One of my high school friends was kicked out by her parents when she started dating a girl. Google “coming out of the closet”.’

‘Google what?’ says Thor, blinking at her. Then he shakes his head and taps at the phone screen.

Steve is happy to sit in the quiet and drink his tea while Thor researches on the internet. He catches Sam’s eye and thinks he still looks a bit out of his depth at this being his introduction to Thor (which, fair, Thor exudes alien at the best of times). He takes Sam’s hand again and smiles at him. This’ll be fine. Googling things is about twenty-five percent of his and Thor’s conversations some days, so he’s used to periods of silence.

After a few minutes, Thor nods and hands the phone back to Jane. ‘I see there is much more I will need to read,’ he says. ‘I will do so promptly as I do not wish my lack of knowledge to cause either of you distress.’

‘You should probably stop doing history in chronological order and get to some of the more recent stuff,’ Jane says. ‘That’s where it gets interesting.’

Thor gives a shrug and half a smile. ‘Perhaps,’ he says. ‘I find the context is important, though.’

‘You’re going to take, like, thirty years to get onto the twenty-first century,’ grouses Jane.

‘One could hardly be expected to gain expertise in a subject in any shorter a time,’ says Thor. ‘It is not my fault that Midgard changes so frequently.’

‘Well by the time you’re done there’ll be thirty more years of history,’ points out Steve.

‘And hopefully by then we’ll have better news than just “you probably won’t get arrested or beaten up as much” for anyone we dredge up in an ice cube from the bottom of the ocean,’ says Sam. Steve lets out a short laugh without much humour.

Thor resumes his chopping. ‘I take it from my brief research that in a realm with this level of complication, I should not disclose this about you to others?’ he says.

‘No, we’ll do it in our own time, thanks,’ says Steve. ‘I’ve told the Avengers. But the public? I- I’ve gotta work my way up to that.’

Thor nods. ‘And perhaps I should consider public reaction if I speak of some of my own history.’

‘Have you-?’ begins Sam before breaking off.

‘Oh, I have had relationships with men,’ begins Thor. 

‘You _what_ ,’ says Steve, because Thor says it like it’s nothing and then waves his hand to mean much the same.

‘That is a mere footnote,’ says Thor, and in that moment Steve kinda hates him a little bit. How is everything so _easy_ for him. ‘I have also had, amongst others, a brief, ah, flirtation with a chieftainess of an exiled Frost Giant clan, and a slightly longer liaison with the a lesser royal from the House of Kih, of the Verseids - who are not humanoid and have five genders. However, even those pale in comparison to relationships with those who are not of noble birth.’ He winks at Jane.

‘A Frost _Giant_?’ manages Steve as Jane chokes on her tea. His brain is still catching up with him. He did hope Asgard’s attitude was different, after all.

Thor huffs. ‘Everyone always remembers that,’ he grumbles petulantly. ‘Just because the Frost Giants are Asgard’s mortal enemies. Her clan was exiled for a reason! It has even made its way into your legends of my people because Fandral thinks he is witty when it comes to fireside tales.’

‘I, uh, don’t think we were focusing on the mortal enemies part,’ says Jane faintly. ‘How tall is a giant?’

Thor looks around at the three of them and raises his eyebrows. ‘Midgardians,’ he says, ‘are very judgemental.’

There’s a slightly awkward silence before Thor slips up and lets out a grin, and Steve cracks up. ‘Asshole,’ he says. 

Thor’s smile widens. ‘Truthfully, Asgardians are fairly open about seeking a variety of companionship,’ he says. Then he frowns. ‘Within certain rules, of course. There are hierarchies. My position-- places certain constraints. My family would prefer someone who is of a similar status and who is politically beneficial, or at least neutral. Járnsaxa received disapproval for the latter, and Jane for the former and for her lifespan. One or two others have also… been subject to my father’s opinions.’ There’s something darker in his tone, an undercurrent of tension and a tightness in the air, and Steve’s irritation melts slightly. Not so easy, then.

‘It kinda sucks when someone else dictates the rules,’ says Sam, echoing Steve’s thoughts as he so often does.

Thor nods, then places a warm and reassuring hand on Steve’s arm. ‘I thank you both for telling me, in this complicated world in which we live.’

Steve smiles. ‘Right back at you,’ he says.

A moment’s silence, and then: ‘Honestly I really want to know how you didn’t get squashed,’ says Jane, tilting her head slightly. ‘Or how you reached.’ Steve finds himself starting to blush despite what appears to be genuine scientific curiosity in Jane’s voice. ‘How tall _is_ a giant?’

‘Twenty foot,’ says Thor. ‘And I will not answer any logistical questions in front of a man I met just today,’ he adds firmly, although with some amusement in his eyes. Jane appears to remember Steve and Sam and gives them a look of embarrassed apology.

Steve looks over at Sam, slightly relieved for himself if nothing else. He doesn’t think he and Thor are yet at the point where he wants to know the details.

‘This is definitely not how I pictured this discussion going,’ says Sam.

Thor grins. ‘The universe is a vast place,’ he says cheerfully. ‘When the Midgardians begin to explore it, you will meet many people, and some of them you will find beautiful.’

‘I mean, that’s great,’ says Steve, ‘but if this means we end up waiting for more Supreme Court decisions about who people get to love, I’m going back into the ice.’

‘Hey, man, if you’re lucky, you might meet some nice Frost Giants there,’ says Sam, mirth in his eyes.

‘I could introduce you to one or two, if that is your preference,’ offers Thor, oh-so-innocently, with a wink at Sam.

Steve sighs. He should have known this would take all of ten minutes upon introducing Sam to Thor. ‘You guys aren’t allowed to talk any more,’ he says.

Sam laughs and offers Thor a high-five, which is returned with enough enthusiasm Steve thinks Sam is lucky he didn’t break an arm.

Still, later, at dinner, when Tony Stark suggests a ‘Pride’ themed range of Avengers merchandise to raise money for charities - not a terrible idea, but Steve isn’t ready just yet - and when Thor manages to cheerfully bring the conversation around to exactly how many tentacles a Verseid has (which varies, apparently, and Thor’s romantic partner had _twelve_ ) to distract everyone, Steve can’t help but think how grateful he is. 

And he’s grateful for it all, really - for the good-natured jeering when he takes Sam’s hand, and even for the _absolutely mortifying_ cheer from someone who’s had a few too many when he and Sam head back to his apartment when the evening is over, because it’s absolutely the same that Thor and Jane or even Tony and Pepper get. The world has changed, but not enough, so it’s a relief that he might be able to find a home, and that’s more than he could ever have hoped after seventy years in the freezer.

Even if, he suspects, it’s a home where he’s eventually going to be talked into selling a rainbow version of his shield for charity. He hopes there’s a flag for people who like alien tentacles so Thor’ll be there too (with a brightly coloured version of Mjolnir), but decides that, on reflection, he’s going to leave that one for Stark to google.


End file.
